Wednesday, March 28, 2012

She sleeps for 3-4 hours, nurses for maybe 20 minutes, and goes back to sleep for another 3-4 hours. She nurses twice at night. I'm tired and old, so she stays in our bed after her first nighttime nurse and is very pleasant to sleep next to.

And she's gaining weight.

She never cries, except when it's time to eat. Then she eats and sleeps some more.

Really, the most trouble she gives us is that we have to thoroughly wake her up in order for her to nurse.

Out of our nine, we've only had one other that slept this much and was this easy. That was Lily. I worried about her - after our first, Benjamin, who never slept more than twenty minutes at a time and did not believe you could safely be awake and not nursing - I was sure she was developmentally delayed or otherwise impeded.

Then she sat up at four months, crawled at five months, and walked at seven months.

And before the age of two, she had potty-trained herself (by crawling up on the potty and sitting backwards) and washed my contacts down the sink.

Maybe I was right to be worried.

Lily and Miriam

In any case, this first week of life with Ada has been amazingly easy (supper every day provided by church members may be a large part of that) and smooth. I've slept hard and well.

And this little one is a real winner. Her birth was as pleasant as could be expected (which, for us, means natural and over quickly) and her siblings are deeply in love with her.

Not to mention her Papa and her Mama.

Her name is a slight variation on the biblical "Adah," dropping the "h" because of the inevitable "U-DAW?" we didn't want to hear every time someone read her name. Her middle name, Gwen, is Ethan's paternal grandmother's.

And this is how you explain her name to a 3-yr. old.

(3-yr. old): "Do we call her 'Chubby'?"

(Me): "No, her name is 'Ada.' "

"Does that mean 'chubby'?"

"No, it means 'ornament.' "

"Does that mean 'chubby'?"

"No, it means 'decoration.' "

(3-yr. old, exasperated): "But does THAT mean 'chubby'?"

More pictures will be coming, which will no doubt confirm Jonathan's description of her. We are tired, we are happy, and we are blessed.

Thursday, March 22, 2012

My brother Daniel is a mystery to me. Not a total mystery, mind you. I get his dry wit (usually), disdain of government, and general desire to avoid baby-sitting and cats.

But I don't get his love of congestion.

Recently I was waxing contentedly about where we live...mountains all around, countryside and farms everywhere, a quaint bustling downtown with local food and musicians.

He visibly shuddered. "Ewww," he replied, his teeth set on edge. "I KNOW! I hate going to visit you. The hills through every neighborhood! The boring fields after fields! Give me skyscrapers! Give me traffic! Give me box stores!"

If I didn't know better, I would have thought he was joking.

But he wasn't.

There are only two hours of travel that physically separate us. But those two hours bring a change in terrain, a change in population, and a change in life's pace. All the things I hate and that make me stressed -- shopping, traffic, building after building after building -- he loves and finds beauty in.

Don't ask me how.

Ethan reminded me that Daniel is not, in fact, a thirty-something mother of eight. Rather, he is a twenty-something bachelor, and that probably figures heavily into the equation.

But I still feel like we're speaking different languages. What does he MEAN he likes traffic? What on earth does that even MEAN? Those words don't even make sense together!

This post is not for him.

We recently took a family outing. For years I've found wisdom in Edith Schaeffer's advice to seek the natural for a retreat. Get away from the buildings, the merchants, the reminders of man.

For our family, this works best. Being out in nature means many stresses are removed. If a kid has a runny nose and no tissue? Find a leaf. If a kid is fussy about not getting a turn with the play phone? Play with a leaf. And even if you can't find a leaf, there are no crowds to disdainfully watch the drama called "This Is Our Life" unfold.

I know there are those who enjoy museums and libraries and malls and galleries. I know there are those who take their children, and a good time is had by all.

I am not one of those.

Oh, I enjoy the library (sometimes), sans children. But I am a closet museum-hater (maybe too many field trips in my youth?) and never really got into the gallery scene. And the only good mall in my opinion is one with an Orange Julius near the entrance.

I do seem to be rather uncultured.

Still, a good outing does wonders for the family's morale. Just getting outside ... of the house, and of the normal ... can make coming home a restful, welcome thing. Leaving the chores and the chickens (but not the children!) for a quick retreat is a good reminder that we do more than share dirt and duties. And a good outing for us is usually defined by these things:

Can we take the dog? I guess this could also be called factoring to the lowest denominator. If we can take the dog, then surely the 2-yr. olds will be tolerated.

Can we get there in an hour or less? We do take more extended trips, but these are very very rare. For a day trip, an hour is about all we can handle. After that, kids are fussy, adults are tired of answering questions (or saying, "No more questions!"), and there is always the thought that we will have to make the return trip after trying to muster up enough energy to enjoy whatever it is we're there to do in the first place.

What'll we do about dinner? Sometimes it just works best to bite the bullet and hit the dollar menu. Or actually enjoy our food and hit a different haunt. I understand it's such a faux pas to admit that we do drive-thru, but I've already admitted to being uncultured. And the reality is that the hour it can take to prepare a lunch (even a simple one, like sandwiches and fruit) for ten people is sometimes more than can be handled in the middle of trying to make sure everyone is clothed, pottied, wearing the proper shoes, and has seen a hairbrush in the last week. I figure the money we save in not paying for parking or a membership to wherever can be safely allocated here. And then I don't worry about it. Or I do, and it takes us forever to pass out food in the van, the kids complain about whatever I've fixed, and we all end up hungry anyway. All I'm saying is it's best to just go with your gut (ha!). If I'm up for fixing something, fine. If not, fine. But be prepared for the stop for food, and don't get all bent out of shape about it. Just chew and don't think.

How much is the destination going to cost? Here, I am talking about the actual destination, not gas or drinks, etc. I know there are those who never go anywhere because of the cost of gas, but we've chosen not to let that stop us. It may shorten the trip, but if the alternative is staying home forever and going crazy, I'll pay for the gas. But here I am talking about the destination. Is there an individual/family/car fee? Because if there is, and it's hefty, we may want to skip it. At this stage in our family, we can't guarantee we'll last longer than fifteen minutes (especially at the types of places that require payment), and the money will have been wasted. On the other hand, the drive can still be pleasant. Even whining can be drowned out by Johnny Cash.

What about naptime? For some of our babies, this really didn't figure into the equation. If naptime came, I would sling them or stroll them (the ones who liked the stroller) and it was no biggie. However, there have been those children that make the entire outing miserable if it happens during their normal naptime. Both sets of twins have been notorious for this. So for them, we plan for the trip to be a shorter one and we adjust their naptime accordingly.

What do we have to do when we get home? Are there going to have to be baths, cleaning for company, etc.? Is tomorrow Sunday? Since Ethan is a pastor, we pretty much try to stay home Saturday afternoons. This gives me time to help children find clothes for Sunday, get Sunday's lunch semi-prepared, and do a general pick-up. The children can all have their baths, and Ethan can spend solid time in sermon preparation.

So that's our informal checklist. As with most things that I've written, I'm not sure what the point of it is, except to clarify in my own mind that, "Hey! This IS what works for us, and that's OK!" I'm not saying it should work for anyone else, but if it does, you're not alone.